


Complicated

by Just_Another_Flygirl



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [4]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Dysphoria, Explicit Language, Gen, Prompt Fic, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2020-10-19 06:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20652920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Flygirl/pseuds/Just_Another_Flygirl
Summary: It was only a matter of time before something happened as a result of recklessness...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Thunderbirds Are Go - they belong to the late Gerry and Silvia Anderson.
> 
> Author's Note: So, this has been something that's been in the pipeline for the last few years that I never really got round to actually writing (probably brought on from the first time a bunch of us cosplayed from TAG) - and I've at least one person that's been waiting for this so I'm super sorry that it's taken so long to do! The theme of this fic (Complicated) is based upon the 100 Themes Challenge on DeviantArt - I started that years ago and never completed it so I figured it would be a good reason to tackle two birds with one stone. I haven't yet decided if this is going to be a slightly humorous fic of a serious one, but regardless, I hope that you enjoy the read! ^^;

Crystalline blues slowly fluttered open for the briefest of moments before scrunching shut again from the sudden bright glare.  
  
Even in the few seconds of taking in the harsh, bright light of the surrounding environment, the almost _too_ clean smell, Scott Tracy was already ninety-five percent sure of his location and the thought of that alone elicited a small groan of despair from the pilot.  
  
“Hey. You're finally awake.”  
  
Ah. A familiar voice.  
  
And with it, yet another feeling of deja vu.  
  
Grimacing with the effort, Scott forced his eyes to open once more, squinting against the sterile light of the medical bay.  
  
_'Shit...'_  
  
A moment or so later and a very recognisable head of raven black hair came into view.  
  
Virgil.  
  
“How are you feeling?” warm, chocolate-browns met with icy blues. There was a dark tint below Virgil's eyes; a sign that he had not slept very well. Or at all.  
  
_'Great... Just how long was I out for this time?'_  
  
This was certainly not the first time the brunette had woken to find himself in a bed within the infirmary on Tracy Island. His role as first responder and Field Commander for International Rescue came with a lot of occupational hazards - arguably, all of them faced unknown dangers on a near daily basis, but--  
  
“Do you even realise how lucky you are to be alive?” the dark circles under Virgil's eyes clouded over even more as his brow furrowed. “How many times have I told you to wait for backup only to have you just ignore me and go barrelling in to things?”  
  
Scott cringed at his brother's words. There was certainly no doubt about it; Virgil Grissom Tracy was one hundred and ten percent pissed off.  
  
“You've been so reckless again recently! I don't think even _you're_ aware how dangerous some of your own actions have been,” Virgil's muscular arms folded in a stern manner across his chest. “I know things have been stressful recently with the whole TV-Twenty-One thing, but that's not an excuse to head down the self-destructive path. Again.”  
  
Sky blues yielded to earthy browns and Scott averted his gaze with a small sigh.  
  
Virgil was right.  
  
Things had been pretty stressful over the last six months. They had experienced a brief influx of call-outs, which had stretched their resources and cut down on their rest time. As a result, John had managed to badly sprain his ankle during a mission involving an out of control 'meteor collector' created by the self-proclaimed 'genius' that was Langstrom Fischler.  
  
And then there had been the business with The Mechanic and the TV-21.  
  
The mission had not failed per se, however, it still felt as though the Tracy family had lost something incredibly sentimental in the process... And even now, four months since that particular mission, Scott was still plagued by nightmares of what had happened and what could have occurred.  
  
He shuddered.  
  
“I'm just worried about you, Scott,” slumping back into the bedside chair, Virgil let out a heavy sigh as he ran a weary hand over his face. “We've been through this before and we agreed, if things started getting... bad... that you'd come and talk to me about it. Not to go running head-first into danger with some kind of death wish in order to get an adrenaline rush.”  
  
“Sorry...”  
  
Scott frowned at the sound of his voice and attempted to clear this throat; wincing as the faint, hangover-like headache made itself more apparent. Taking a breath, he tried again.  
  
“Virgil, I...”  
  
There was an odd look in Virgil's eyes as the brunette trailed off; the latter frowning in a mixture of bewilderment and concern.  
  
The demolitions expert stifled a yawn as he rolled his right shoulder, trying to un-knot the muscle he had pulled during their last mission. Part of him was pretty glad that it was just the two of them occupying the infirmary right now. At least the situation would be a little more... manageable. Even more so without the Terrible Two hanging around.  
  
“Holy shit! What the actual fuck?!”  
  
Virgil glanced up to see their usually composed Field Commander sat bolt upright in bed; blue eyes wide and hands wandering in an uncharacteristically frantic manner across his body.  
  
Or rather _her_ body.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ended up being a LOT longer than I thought it would be (especially, considering I've had a bit of a writer's slump in the last couple of weeks).  
Big shout out to those who helped get me out of my funk - you know who you all are :3
> 
> So, after this chapter, I'll be doing something a little different with this fic - I'll be turning the subsequent chapters into little one shots based on writing prompts that I receive from a list I found on Tumblr.  
If you're interested in leaving a prompt from the list, let me know and I'll try my best to see what I can do :3

Once again, the raven-haired pilot was extremely thankful that Gordon had been removed from the infirmary. Often, their aquanaut brother had no concept of 'time and place' when it came to making some of his spur of the moment puns. And the last thing Virgil wanted right now was to break up a fight.

"Virgil, what the _fuck_ is going on?"

Even if Scott's reaction was still a tad entertaining. 

International Rescue's demolitions expert tried his best to remain composed as he regarded his sibling. Biting his lower lip in an attempt at stifling an amused grin, Virgil could only offer a shrug. “I mean, it could have been so much worse, right?”

“Not cool, Virg!” Scott's blue eyes narrowed. “Is this some kind of sick joke? Where the hell is Gordon?”

“No joke,” Virgil shook his head. “And definitely nothing to do with Gordon.”

“And I'm guessing Brains hasn't suddenly developed a twisted sense of humour?”

“Nope.”

“So...?”

“So what?”

“So how _did_ this happen?!”

Virgil cringed as his sibling's voice rose in both volume and pitch; Scott's increasing anger and frustration becoming more and more evident.

He shook his head with a sigh. “You don't remember?”

“Remember _what_?”

The dark-haired pilot pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. He needed a coffee. Or a nap. Maybe both.

But before that...

“You don't remember running blindly into that chemical research and development facility in Siberia?” Virgil paused, his dark eyes narrowing and jaw tightening for a moment. “_Without_ backup.”

There was no response from International Rescue's Field Commander.

“Well?”

“I remember... bits. It's still a little patchy,” Scott frowned. “I remember the researcher there refusing to leave without backing up her data. That's why I went in... John said the whole place was going to explode into pieces.”

Virgil's frown deepened, his brow furrowing and accentuating the dark circles under his tired eyes. “And you couldn't wait another fifteen minutes?”

“There wasn't any time, Virgil.”

“I was on my way, damnit!”

“I said there wasn't enough time!”

“Goddammit, Scott, you could have _died_!”

Virgil's words were empathised by a solid _thud_ as he rose to his full height, the chair he had been sat upon clattering loudly along the infirmary floor. 

Scott's had snapped up to look at him, blue eyes wide. 

“There was a series of explosions and you were caught up in it,” Virgil's hands were balled into fists, his strong, muscular frame shaking. “John said that some of the chemical vats had exploded. Suit diagnostics picked up an electrical arc shortly before your comms went dead.”

Part of him was expecting some sort of retort - an indignant justification of reckless actions and behaviour. Again.

Instead, he was met with an uncomfortable silence.

Shoulders sagging, Virgil perched himself at the foot of the bed. “I don't know how you made it out of there in one piece, but you have to stop pulling stunts like that. One of these days, your luck is _really_ going to run out.”

“I get it, Virg. I'm sorry.” Scott was quiet, no longer able to hold Virgil's unyielding gaze. “I just... Things have been a bit stressful recently. What with increased calls and then the whole business with The Mechanic and then Dad's ship...”

“We've been through this before, Scott. Arctic Circle. Aurora generator. Ring any bells?” Virgil gave a lop-sided expression as he folded his arms across his chest. “You promised me you'd talk to me if things started getting... overwhelming.”

“I know.”

“So, why didn't you?”

“Honestly? I don't know...” Scott replied. “I don't have an answer for you.”

“You can't keep doing this, Scott.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do, Virgil?”

“Right now?” Virgil arched an eyebrow. “Probably get yourself some fitting clothes. Kayo said you can see if any of hers fit. She's offered to take you to the mainland to get your wardrobe sorted until we can find a way to reverse what's happened.”

“Great!” Scott shot Virgil a sour look. “And I take it that Brains is working on a solution?”

The Thunderbird Two pilot nodded his head in response. “Yeah, but he said it's going to take some time. We don't know exactly what happened apart from the fact you got drenched in a mixture of those chemicals. Possibly inhaled and ingested some of it too.” 

There was a frustrated sound from the brunette. “Why don't you ask the researcher?”

This time, it was Virgil's turn to be silent.

Scott watched him quietly, a sense of fear and dread starting to creep up.

“She didn't make it.”

“What? How? I sent her on ahead whilst I finished off the data transfer.”

“Remember that electrical arc I mentioned earlier?”

Scott nodded.

"It triggered some kind of high-strength electromagnetic pulse through the central corridor of the building," Virgil explained. “Rendered my exo-suit completely inoperable and knocked out my comms.”

“And the researcher?”

Virgil took a deep breath, his folded arms tightening around his chest as he bowed his head. “The EMP was strong enough and in such close proximity that her pacemaker ceased functioning,” he paused, letting out a deep sigh of regret. “She was already too far gone when I found her.”

“Shit...” Scott's fingers tightened around the sheets of the bed. “I'm so sorry, Virgil. I shouldn't have sent her ahead.”

Finally un-crossing his arms, the raven-haired pilot waved a hand half-heartedly. “We can't always save everyone, right? Isn't that what Dad taught us when International Rescue first started up?”

“I know, but-”

“You made a decision, Scott. There's nothing to say that the EMP wouldn't have affected her device where you were located. Besides, you didn't exactly look your best when you finally decided to make an appearance.”

“You mean I looked like this?” the brunette huffed, gesturing at himself... herself? “I don't actually remember anything after an explosion. I just know that it happened before that stupid data transfer finished, so I suppose any information on that is lost.”

“Not exactly... You did look very much like a drowned rat though and your helmet had taken significant damage. Another one for ever-mounting scrap and recycle pile, but I'd rather your helmet over your skull... No matter how thick it is!” Virgil's snort of amusement was short lived, his voice becoming me serious. “You said you felt a bit dizzy and nauseated whilst I was checking you over in Thunderbird Two and then you passed out. Subsequently, John set Thunderbird One on autopilot home and I let you rest up whilst I got us home. The medical scanners weren't picking up anything out of the ordinary, so I figured it was just some bruises and scrapes. When we landed back here, I went to check up on you and... yeah.”

Scott frowned, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. “Is there anything we can go back and retrieve from whatever is left of that facility? Any sort of information about whatever was going on there?”

Virgil grimaced, completely aware that Scott was _not_ going to like his answer. “Sorry. That building was pretty much a mess. John and EOS were picking up severe structural damage, rendering it completely unsafe to re-enter. The GDF had to get a specialised team to deal with and area-wide chemical cleanup and demolitions task. They didn't even know what was going on at that facility.”

“Well that's just fucking great,” Scott growled. “So, judging by the sounds of it, that ‘research facility’ wasn't even a place that went through all the right channels to start operating!”

“Afraid so. Which is why Brains is struggling to come up with something to reverse things,” Virgil cringed as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not to be the bringer of bad news but we don't even know if it can be reversed...”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

“Shit...” Icy blue eyes met with warm browns again. “And I suppose this is the part where you give me some kind of ‘I told you so’ lecture about my behaviour? Again?”

“Do I look like the type of brother who would kick you when you were down?” Virgil's arms crossed themselves against his chest in an almost defensive manner. “I'm pretty sure this whole... _situation_... is a lesson in itself. Just know that you really scared the crap out of me. Again. And that's not healthy. For either of us.”

“I get it. I said I was sorry. I'll to and be more... careful. I promise,” the brunette sighed, sitting up a little more on the bed. “Now, can we please go and find me some decent clothes?”

“Sure thing,” Virgil nodded as he stood, extending his hand with a slight chuckle. “You know, Dad _did_ always wish he had a daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading, reviewing and leaving kudos! It helps to fuel my future writing! :3


	3. “You are a bloody idiot, you know that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here’s the first of the prompts selected from the prompt list that I found! Thanks to arrowsinthenight for picking the prompt “You are a bloody idiot, you know that?”  
If you're interested in leaving a prompt from the list, let me know and I'll try my best to see what I can do :3  
As always, thank you so much for the kudos and comments / reviews! They are the fuel to my writing! :3

“_You_ are a bloody idiot, you know that?”

“So I keep hearing, John.”

“Well, maybe you ought to hear it more often. If it'll help things sink into your thick skull.”

“Is this what you came all the way down from Thunderbird Five to tell me?” Scott glowered at the space monitor. 

John gave a small snort in reply. “Only because I knew I just _had_ to see you with my own two eyes to believe everything that's happened in the last day and a half.”

“And are you satisfied now?”

Aquamarine eyes narrowed, accompanied by an uncharacteristic sound that was halfway between a growl and a sigh. “Are _you_?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Knock it off, you two. Don't you think there's been enough drama around here recently?” Virgil frowned as he strode into Brain's laboratory. He glanced in John's direction. “How's your ankle?”

“Better. Thanks.” John's reply was clipped, emphasising his frustration. His posture relaxed somewhat as he regarded his raven-haired brother. “Did you manage to get any rest?”

Said brother replied with a small nod, however, John could still see the tell-tale darkness under his eyes. It only served to fuel his irritable mood.

Virgil seemed to read this unspoken concern and dissatisfaction. He simply waved a dismissive hand in acknowledgement and return. “Don't worry. I'm fine. I'll be okay.”

John's gloved hands balled tightly into fists at the gesture, however a silent glare from Virgil stopped the middle sibling from pursuing the subject any further. Still fuming, he turned his attention back to Scott. “Hate to be the one to say it, but plaid is so not your thing.”

“Yeah, well I didn't exactly have a choice,” Scott frowned. “Kayo's clothes didn't fit as well as we thought they would, so we had to improvise.”

The space monitor arched an eyebrow before he clocked on; a wry grin spreading across his features. “Ah.”

“Anyway,” Virgil cleared his throat and attempted to change the subject. “What's the verdict, Brains?”

“Yeah, if you're done running your scans, I'd quite like to be able to move again.”

“Can it, Scott. This is your own damn fault.”

“Screw you, John.”

With a growl, Virgil stepped forward, placing himself between his two bickering siblings. He glanced toward their resident scientist. “Any luck?”

International Rescue's resident scientist and engineer tapped a few keys on his workstation before finally glancing up in acknowledgement. “I-It's actually incredibly fascinating, V-Virgil. Whatever happened, it has a-affected the allosomes within Scott's DNA...” He paused to adjust his glasses. “By all accounts, y-your brother is now... well... your sister.”

“But it's just temporary, isn't it?” Scott's voice was hopeful. “You can fix this, can't you?”

Brains was silent for a moment, choosing his response carefully. “If you're asking for my h-honest opinion, I'm not sure if there's anything that can be done.”

“You're kidding me, right?”

The spectacled genius averted his gaze; busying himself with the data accumulated from his diagnostic tests. “I wish I were, but I have no data a-available regarding any of the compounds involved in your... situation. N-Not even a trace. All I know for sure is that your DNA breakdown scan shows t-twenty-three homologous chromosome pairs.”

“English, please?”

“It means that physically, _you_ are female,” John jabbed a gloved finger in Scott's direction. “And that there's nothing anyone can do about it. Not even Brains.”

“So... I have a big sister now?”

All heads turned to see Alan standing there; the teen suddenly looking like a deer in headlights as all attention suddenly became focused upon him. He squirmed where he stood before scratching the back of his head with a nervous laugh. 

“I mean, I've always wanted to have a sister...” he added meekly. 

Scott visibly stiffened at the blond astronaut's words but remained silent for a beat, trying to think of an appropriate response. 

“What about Kayo? She's kind of like a sister?”

“How about a biological sister that won't beat me up?” Alan shrugged. “Kayo's more like a-”

“Hot babysitter?” Scott smirked, quirking an eyebrow. 

Alan's face turned a shade that nearly matched his beloved Thunderbird. “I... never said that?”

“Kayo told us. Quite a while ago now,” Virgil revealed with an amused grin and a wink. “Don't worry, your secret is safe with us.”

“Did someone say something about a secret? I just _love_ a good secret!”

Once again, all attention turned towards the entrance of Brains' laboratory as Gordon Tracy casually strode in with a half-eaten Celery Crunch bar in his hand. He gave their still-blushing youngest brother a playful nudge and a wink as he passed. 

“'Sup, Al? Did you accidentally see something you shouldn't have?”

“N-No way!” Alan spluttered indignantly.

“Whatever you say, bro. It's not like- _woah_!” the aquanaut stopped dead in his tracks; nearly choking on his current mouthful of Celery Crunch as he regarded Scott. “Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?”

The brunette facepalmed. “Oh, thanks.”

Gordon gave a light shrug. “I mean, it could have be _so_ much worse, right?”

“So I've been told. Three times.”

Ignoring the obvious irritation in his oldest sibling, Gordon let out a whistle. “I can totally see why none of Kayo's clothes fit you though. Looks like you're going to have to get remeasured for a new set of uniforms and a whole new wardrobe,” he glanced at Virgil and John. “So is this temporary or...?”

“Permanent. For now, at least,” John was the first to answer. “Might give our dear _sister_ some time to think about her ‘act now, worry later’ approach to everything.”

“Oof. Sounds like someone's mad...” Gordon took a step back, as if to avoid getting scorched by the agitation radiating from the red-head. “So...?”

“Whatever happened during the last mission, it's altered Scott's DNA,” Virgil decided to take over the explaining in order to try and keep as much of the peace as possible. “Brains has run several tests and scans and he's now, genetically speaking, our sister.”

The sandy-haired aquanaut have another whistle. “Tough break, huh?”

“Yeah and I'm standing right here, you know?” Scott frowned, finally stepping off Brains' holo-scanner to join the others.

“Uh-huh,” Gordon nodded his head. “And almost about a foot shorter than you used to be.”

“_Thank you_, Captain Obvious.”

Gordon gave a bow. “I live to please. Maybe you could ask Brains to fabricate you some boots with extra lift?”

“Gordon! For fu-”

“Now now,” the aquanaut waggled a finger. “That's not very ladylike language, is it?”

“Okay, both of you, cut it out!” Virgil growled in warning, intercepting his bickering siblings by placing his large frame between them. He let out a sigh, his body still rigid. “Look. What's done is done. And there's nothing any of us can do about it. Gordon,” chocolate-brown eyes glanced over at the aquanaut. “Stop teasing Scott. You wouldn't like it if this whole thing was reversed...”

John let out a snort, folding his arms across his chest. “Gordon wouldn't be reckless enough to barrel into situations...”

The raven-haired pilot's posture stiffened. “_Not_ helping, John.”

The space monitor rolled his eyes in response but kept silent. 

“And as for you,” Virgil turned his attention to Scott. “Like I said earlier, I'm not going to kick you whilst you're down. But hopefully, you'll learn to be a little less... Impulsive? It'll definitely make _me_ feel a lot better every time we go out on a call.”

“Fine...” Scott's shoulders sagged in defeat. 

“Good,” Virgil gave a satisfied nod. “Although, I guess we'll have to rethink pronouns for you now, right? I mean, if this is what you want?”

“I guess it'd make things less... complicated whilst out on the field,” Scott huffed a little. “It might just take me some getting used to...”

“Are you sure you're going to be okay with this?” Alan asked delicately. 

“Yeah. I'll be fine, Al,” the brunette gave a somewhat forced smile and nodded, reaching out and ruffling the youngest's hair. “This is my fault after all. So I guess I have to live with the consequences, right?”

The young astronaut paused for a moment before closing the distance and embracing his new sister in an almost vice-like grip; eliciting a slightly strangled squeak from the latter, much to their brothers' amusement.

Baby blues glanced up expectantly. “Are you going to change your name too?”

A pause. 

“Well, I guess I should... It'd make sense...”

Alan tilted his head inquisitively. “What name are you going to pick?”

“I'm... not really sure... I haven't really thought about it.”

“You know, when your parents were expecting their first child and they weren't sure if they'd be having a boy or a girl, they picked out one name for each. Would you like to hear them?”

Everyone turned to see Sally Tracy standing there, arms behind her back and a wise, gentle smile across her face.

Gordon squawked in surprise, nearly dropping the remains of his Celery Crunch bar in the process. “G-Grandma?! How long have you been standing there?!”

“Long enough to not need an explanation for what's going on...” was the Tracy matriarch's gruff reply before turning her attention back to her eldest grandchild. “Did you still want to hear those names, dear?”

The Thunderbird One pilot quirked a small smile. “Well, I'm pretty sure I already know what one of them is, but sure, Grandma.”

“Smartass,” Sally chuckled. “How does Scarlett sound for you, kid?”

The brunette was silent in contemplation for a couple of minutes.

In that time, Gordon had wolfed down the rest of his favourite snack bar - as John pulled a mildly disgusted expression - and had tossed the scrunched up wrapper in the direction of the bin... Missing horribly. With a disconcerted sound, MAX darted out from behind one of Brains' workstations, picking up the poorly-thrown wrapper and dropping it into the bin. The robotic Artificial Intelligence shook his head at Gordon before wheeling back to his creator's side.

Finally, International Rescue's Field Commander glanced back up at the others with a small, slightly pensive smile. “Scarlett sounds great, Grandma.”

“I guess that's sorted then. Kayo and I can help you out with some new clothes. But before that,” Sally produced a charred plate from behind her back. “How about some cookies to cheer you all up?”


End file.
